


My Everything

by SPowell



Category: Merlin - Fandom
Genre: Dubious Consent, Jealousy, M/M, handsy magic, magical sex, magical tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-12
Updated: 2012-12-12
Packaged: 2017-11-20 23:12:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/590737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SPowell/pseuds/SPowell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At their wedding shower, Merlin sees something that tells him he's had enough. His magic disagrees.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Everything

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sorrylatenew](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sorrylatenew/gifts).



> Written for sorrylatenew. I tried to incorporate several of the things you asked for. Hope you enjoy! Happy holidays!  
> The dub-con warning is basically for Merlin's magic having its way with Arthur.  
> Song: "My First, My Last, My Everything" by Barry White.

 

 

 

 

Merlin watches as Arthur leads Gwaine aside, heads bent together, dark against light. His magic yearns toward Arthur, but Merlin pulls it in. It’s the fourth time in two weeks that he’s caught Arthur like this with the other man…whispering and smiling, Arthur’s hand on Gwaine’s arm and his lips to Gwaine’s ear. The second time tonight. Hurt and anger coil within Merlin’s gut even as his magic seeks out Arthur, wanting to go to him. It’s the first time in his life that Merlin is at odds with his magic, and he doesn’t like it. He feels betrayed. Doubly so.

He turns away and goes back to the living room, seeking out Gwen.

“I don’t think I want any more punch after all,” he tells her. Gwen dimples, takes him by the arm, and leads him to where Elena has pushed back all the furniture so people can dance. A corner table displays opened gifts that Merlin and Arthur will pack up and take to their new home—a farmhouse that Merlin is in love with almost as much as he is with Arthur. It’s a dream come true, and Merlin would be the happiest man on earth right now if he didn’t have this awful feeling that it is all about to come to a crashing end.

As he puts himself on autopilot and follows Gwen’s dance moves, a smile plastered to his face, Merlin’s mind wanders to earlier that day when he and Arthur lay by the fire in the great room of their home, admiring the fresh paint they’d applied to the walls themselves.

Arthur had laid a large, furry rug on the floor and they’d made love on it. Arthur had done something no one had ever done to Merlin before--put his mouth on him there—lapped at him with his tongue before delving it inside, making Merlin squirm with embarrassed, hedonistic delight, calling out Arthur’s name over and over again, his face pressed into the rug, until, his opening dripping with his lover’s saliva, he felt Arthur’s cock push inside him and drive him over the edge.

“Earth to Merlin,” Gwen says, shaking Merlin’s arm. She smiles at him as he flushes and focuses his eyes on her. “Where were you just now? Or do I even want to know?”

“I-I was just thinking about, er…”

“It’s all right,” Gwen lets him off the hook. “I suppose the honeymoon’s already started, hasn’t it? Now that you’re living together in that quaint old farmhouse.” She sighs. “I wish Leon would get on the stick and ask me to marry him.”

“Why don’t you ask him?” Merlin points out. “Leon’s a shy bloke, and you certainly have no problem speaking your mind.”

Gwen smacks him on the shoulder. “I will take that as the compliment it may or may not have been intended to be,” she says. All around them their friends are dancing, laughing, having fun. But Arthur and Gwaine remain conspicuously absent. Merlin wonders that it took Arthur a year to grow tired of him. After all, Arthur is rich, charming, beautiful, and very, very popular. What is he doing with Merlin, anyway? Is it any wonder that now, just weeks from their wedding date, he is showing interest in others? Is he planning on marrying Merlin and having his trysts on the side? Not even well-hidden trysts, either, but ones that are held practically under Merlin’s very nose…

Merlin abruptly stops dancing, receiving a questioning look from Gwen. “I’m getting awfully tired,” he lies. “I think I’ll start loading these gifts in the boot—could you tell Arthur I’m ready to go, please?” Merlin knows his voice sounds funny. He knows Gwen is giving him a searching look, but he turns away and begins packing up the presents, telling Elena, who stands nearby chatting with Freya, that the punch has given him a bit of a headache, but they’ve had the most marvelous time…he natters on without having to put much thought into it, something he’s thankfully good at, having worked with the public for years. In another part of his mind, he wonders what Gwen will walk in on when she finds Arthur with Gwaine. Perhaps things will come to a head tonight, and he can put an end to the suffering he’s been going through the past couple of weeks—ever since he spotted the first text message from Gwaine asking Arthur to meet him somewhere—and Arthur had lied to him about it.

But Gwen, Arthur, and Gwaine return laughing and joking. Arthur comes to stand beside Merlin and places a cool hand on the back of Merlin’s neck, rubbing gently. “Had enough?” he asks, blue eyes crinkling in the corners. He kisses Merlin on the temple and helps him pack the gifts. This makes Merlin all the angrier, that Arthur could treat him so lovingly while betraying him. His magic again pulls toward Arthur, but Merlin holds onto it, silently cursing its treachery.

On the long drive home, Merlin’s mind again strays to earlier that afternoon—Arthur’s lips against his thigh, murmuring about love and dreams come true. Suddenly he can’t stand it anymore.

“Arthur,” Merlin says hoarsely, and Arthur turns to glance at him. It’s dark in the car, and Merlin is thankful for that. “I want you to be honest with me. What is going on between you and Gwaine?”

Merlin registers the way Arthur immediately stiffens at the question, and his heart sinks.

“What're you talking about? Gwaine is a chum; you know that. He’s your mate, too.”

Merlin sighs. “Stop it, Arthur. I’ve seen the text messages…seen you whispering to him. You’re having a fling with him.”

Arthur’s intake of air and lack of an immediate answer is a stamp of verification as far as Merlin is concerned, and he feels tears prickling his eyes in spite of himself. He can feel his magic swirling beneath the surface, needy and desperate.

“Stop the car,” Merlin says abruptly when Arthur remains silent. Arthur gives him an astonished look. “I mean it, Arthur. Stop the car.”

Arthur pulls to the side of the road, and Merlin climbs out onto the grass and starts to walk. He hears the car engine stop and a door slam behind him, but he doesn’t look back.

“Merlin, you’re being silly… Merlin!” Arthur jogs up to walk beside him.

“Thanks. That’s just want I want to hear.”

“I am not having a _fling_ with Gwaine.”

“Whatever,” Merlin says, wondering if it was something more than a fling. “I know what I saw, Arthur.”

Arthur stops, grabbing Merlin by the arm and swinging him around to face him. “Look, it’s cold and about to rain. Can we just go home? We can talk about this then.”

Merlin crosses his arms over his chest. “No, because I don’t want to get into the car with you.”

The first drops begin to fall from a heavy-laden sky. Arthur looks exasperated. “So you’d rather stand here and get wet just because you’re angry with me?  Merlin, don't be such a girl.”

Merlin huffs and turns to walk in another direction.

“Merlin! Where are you going, you idiot? It’s about to pour, and you’re heading away from the road! _Mer_ lin!” Arthur's shouts become muffled by the wind picking up, rattling the tree limbs above.

Merlin keeps walking, going so far as to cover his ears with his hands to keep himself from hearing Arthur’s flimsy excuses as he catches up—there is something going on with Arthur and Gwaine; Merlin isn’t imagining it, and Arthur is trying to blow it off as nothing. But Merlin had seen the hesitation. Just remembering the way Arthur had leaned forward and pressed his lips to Gwaine’s ear, whispering something to him-- It makes Merlin’s blood boil and his magic surge restlessly within him, ready to act.

Merlin walks faster, stepping high over a fallen tree and leaping over a muddy patch. He is going deeper into the woods, and he knows it’s stupid, but he can’t stand looking at Arthur’s face another second. He isn’t going to get back into the car and drive to their flat just to hear Arthur make up some lie about Gwaine.

Thunder rolls, shaking the ground, and it begins to rain in earnest, sharp needles against their skin. Footsteps behind him alert Merlin to Arthur’s presence, and Merlin breathes a sigh of relief that Arthur hasn’t turned around and left him. A second later and the skies open up with a deluge of rain.

“Fuck!” Arthur swears, and Merlin tucks his chin down and runs, sending out tendrils of magic to find the nearest shelter. It isn’t long until a cave looms in the distance. Merlin speeds up, hearing Arthur pick up the pace behind him, and they simultaneously careen under the shelter of the overhanging rock, skidding to a halt and taking in great gulps of air.  The rain overhead echoes throughout the shallow cave, and Merlin spends a few moments listening to it while his heartbeat slows and his eyes grow accustomed to the lack of light. Arthur leans against the far wall of the enclosure, breathing thickly through his nose, a look of stunned annoyance on his face.

Merlin can’t play this game anymore. His heart hurts, but he knows it would be better to get it all out in the open now before it gets any closer to their wedding date.

“That was our wedding shower,” he says, dismayed at the tremor in his voice. “Elena gave us a shower, and all our friends were there, and …we should’ve been dancing together.” Merlin swallows. “But instead…you were off somewhere with Gwaine, the way you’ve been meeting him for weeks. Arthur, if you want to call this off, why don’t you just say so?”

Arthur frowns, “Merlin, don’t—“

“And don’t call me a girl, or an idiot. I’m not your fucking lackey, Arthur, I’m your boyfriend! Your fiancé, for Christ’s sake!” Merlin is shaking with anger now, and his magic is stirring, reacting to his emotions and to Arthur, just as it always does. Merlin wants to tell it to mind its own business, but at this moment he’s so full of hurt and fear and, dammit, _love_ that he’s powerless to control it as it reaches out.

Arthur finds himself at a loss for words. He can’t believe that Merlin is saying these things—accusing him of cheating on him. Yes, he has been talking with Gwaine quite a lot lately, and he’s met him on the sly- it all has to do with a wedding gift for Merlin. It doesn’t really surprise him that Merlin’s caught on, but that he can possibly think Arthur is interested in Gwaine? In anyone, for that matter? And Merlin looks so wrecked that Arthur just wants to go to him, wrap his arms around him. But he doesn’t want to give up the surprise; he’s planned it too long now. Surely he can convince Merlin without letting him know.

“Merlin, I promise you I’m not interested in Gwaine. We were only talking.” He takes a step forward.

Merlin’s lip trembles, his body stiffening with indignation. Arthur’s never seen that particular expression on his lover’s face before. He doesn’t know what to make of it, but it’s obvious that Merlin is very upset and teetering on the edge. Evidently he’s kept his suspicions bottled up for a while, and for a moment Arthur wavers in his resolve. Arthur can feel Merlin’s magic reaching out to him with a strange intensity, and he senses it crossing the distance between them as Arthur stands on one side of the cave and Merlin stands on the other. Lightning flashes and thunder immediately crashes outside, causing Arthur to jump.

He feels the magic touch him, surround him, holding him still and tugging at him. At his clothing.

“Merlin…” But Merlin is looking at Arthur with his mouth set, his eyes burnishing gold.

Suddenly Arthur’s shirt is off, and then his trousers and everything else, and he stands naked in the cave, shivering in the wind from the storm. As though Merlin’s magic realizes this, a fire flares up on the floor between them, roaring merrily, although there is no wood to feed it. Merlin’s eyes are blazing yellow and gold now, and Arthur’s gaze locks with his, unable to withdraw as Merlin’s magic envelopes Arthur's body.

Arthur sucks in a breath, his heart stuttering in his chest, as unseen fingers run over his torso and begin to stroke his cock, enticing it to full attention. Hairs stand up on the back of Arthur’s neck, and he jerks as an invisible tongue laves at his sensitive balls, making him tremble with need. All the while Merlin stands stiff and slightly bent forward, his golden eyes burning into Arthur’s wide blue ones. Arthur gasps, tries to move forward, toward Merlin, but finds he can’t.

Arthur wants to squeeze his eyes shut at the overwhelming sensations assaulting him…magical fingers dancing over him as a cold gush of air from the storm simultaneously wafts over his wet, bare skin. The magic touches him in so many places at the same time, Arthur is quickly on sensory overload. He moans when it gently lifts him off the ground, unseen hands stroking his body and a wet cavern enveloping his cock. Arthur’s head turns, as he is still a prisoner of Merlin’s gaze. He’s breathing hard, and he lets out a hoarse cry as Merlin’s magic parts his flesh and squirms its way inside him, filling him fully before dancing along his prostate with silent fingers.

Arthur makes noises he’s never made before, even in the height of his love making with Merlin. He’s overwrought with desire, no part of his skin ignored by Merlin’s magic. It covers Arthur’s neck with sucks and nibbles as if a hundred Merlins feast upon him. It gives love bites at the backs of his knees and along the planes of his back and ass. It sucks each individual toe as though into a separate mouth, even as it continues to nurse on his engorged cock like a ravenous baby seeking sustenance.

“Oh, god, Merlin, _please_ …” he cries out, arching up at the unspeakable pleasure.

Merlin looks possessed—lit by the fire, standing rigid and shaking, his magic rolling off him in waves and assaulting Arthur with delicious precision. Arthur is cresting, his body literally floating on air as unseen lips pluck at his taut nipples and an invisible tongue delves into his navel. Gooseflesh erupts all over him as every inch comes under assault except for his mouth, which lets out continual cries of pleasure. He alternately groans, then yells as hundreds of tongues lick at his testes, suck at his cock, fuck him slowly and deliberately in the ass, lick and nip all over is skin until he thinks he’ll go crazy with it.

“Aah--aah!” he shouts with pleasure—eyes still locked with Merlin’s--, his throat constricting as his cock pulses almost painfully, spurting cum onto the wall behind him.

Arthur’s body gently falls to the ground, the nibbling, sucking, and biting changing to soft stroking and comforting kisses, magic surrounding him, loving him. His gaze unlocks with Merlin’s, and Arthur watches Merlin sag to the ground, his face in his hands.

Arthur slowly catches his breath, every fiber of his being still thrumming from the onslaught. Thunder rumbles in the distance, the storm fading away as though it had been the soundtrack to the whole experience. Presently, he hears muted sound, and realizes Merlin is crying into his hands.

“Merlin…” Arthur reaches out, trying to get Merlin to come to him. Unanswered, Arthur tries again, this time silently beseeching Merlin’s magic.

Slowly, Merlin unfolds himself from the floor and walks to Arthur, head bowed and shoulders shaking. Arthur’s hand still hovers between them, and Merlin obediently takes it before lowering himself to the floor of the cave.

Arthur’s chest continues to heave and sweat coats his spent body. He reaches up and fingers the tears from Merlin’s face. “Please don’t cry,” he says softly, his voice only a rasp barely heard above the retreating thunder.

Merlin raises distraught eyes to him, no longer golden but their usual sea-blue. “Arthur, I’m sorry!’ he gasps on a sob. “Oh, my god, I’m sorry! I—it---my magic! I’m sorry!” He falls forward, resting his head on Arthur’s chest and sobbing pitifully. Arthur’s hand shakes as he raises it to stroke Merlin’s soft, dark hair.

“What are you talking about?” he asks, bewildered. “You made love to me with your magic, Merlin…it was…”

Merlin sits up abruptly. “How can you say that? You didn’t ask for that! My magic _raped_ you, Arthur! I was so full of…anger, hurt, love—desire! My magic took over! I wouldn’t even be surprised if the storm was all me. My magic came at you, and—assaulted you, Arthur! It did things to you, and you couldn’t move! Couldn’t stop it! And my magic is _me_. A part of me. I hurt you…I’m so, so sorry.”

Arthur swallows. It’s true, all of it. But Arthur hadn’t been afraid, and it hadn’t hurt. It had been magnificent. “Did I ask you to stop? Did I say I was scared?” Arthur shakes his head and raises up on one elbow. “I wasn’t, Merlin. It was passionate. I felt your love for me. You didn’t hurt me; you couldn’t.” He reaches out and lifts Merlin’s trembling chin with a finger. “You do love me, still?”

Merlin bites his lip. “Of course, I love you, you ignorant prat!” he exclaims angrily. “How can you ask me that? Of course I do! The question here has never been about my love for you!”

Arthur closes his eyes. “You really believe I don’t love you? That I don’t want us to be married?”

Merlin is miserable. He’s confused and utterly washed out from what has happened. He’s never felt so powerful yet powerless at the force of his magic before. It was as if the magic had simply had to have Arthur…had to have him right then…had to consume him. Merlin had been as unable to move as Arthur had been as the tendrils of magic escaped him and began touching Arthur all over. And, miraculously, it all had been as if Merlin was touching him himself. He had felt and tasted every part of Arthur during those long moments: he’d felt the soft, papery skin of Arthur’s testicles on his tongue; he’d tasted the drops of pre-cum and felt the smooth skin of Arthur’s cock against the back of his throat. Merlin’s fingers had pebbled Arthur’s nipples, and his cock had tingled and hardened at the feel of being inside of Arthur. The whole thing had been the oddest, most sensual experience of his life. And when Arthur had come, semen had burst from Merlin as well. He’d felt anointed somehow. But as soon as it was over, shame and fear quickly overwhelmed him. He’s never taken Arthur by force before and is dismayed that his magic has done so now.

“Arthur, I’m so sorry,” he says again brokenly.

“You didn’t answer me,” Arthur says. “Merlin, do you really believe I don’t love you?”

Merlin squeezes his eyes shut. “I know you love me, Arthur. But…I just don’t know if you want to marry me. We’ve only been together a year, and Gwaine…”

Arthur sits up, grabbing Merlin by the shoulders. “I don’t love Gwaine!” Arthur shakes him. “Merlin, you have to trust me on this. I am not interested in Gwaine. I love you!” His voice cracks, and Merlin stares at him, shocked at his vehemence. Arthur scrambles up to his knees. “If you could believe I would betray you like this, I must be doing something wrong, Merlin.” Arthur runs his fingers through his blond hair, pulling at it, and fear and trepidation tug at Merlin’s heart. “This past year—has it meant nothing to you? Have I ever given so much to anyone else in my life?”

Arthur stands, reaching for his wet clothes which he finds in a pile on the cave floor. “You know how difficult it is for me to open up to people.”

Merlin watches Arthur dress. It continues to rain outside the cave entrance, but only sporadically. It is very late, and Merlin is very tired.

Slowly, Merlin gets up from the floor of the cave. He douses the fire with his magic and silently follows Arthur out into the night.

At home, they don’t speak. Arthur gets into the shower while Merlin leaves their bags of gifts in the great room and heads for the kitchen. Taking a bottle of whiskey out of the cupboard, he pours a glass with a shaking hand and drinks it down. He climbs the stairs to the bedroom he and Arthur have only slept in two nights. It contains a king sized bed and little else. Merlin has a flash of memory of their first night in it when Arthur had driven him crazy with only his fingers, sliding them in and out while watching Merlin’s every expression until he came undone. Arthur had taken him roughly, then, as though he couldn’t fuck him hard enough, driving his body into the mattress with vicious stabs of his hips, his face buried in Merlin’s sweat-soaked neck.

And then they had lain together in the darkness, their legs and fingers entwined, talking softly of their plans for the future.

Arthur comes out of the bathroom dripping, a towel tied low around his waist. Merlin doesn’t look at him, only retreats to the bathroom himself, stepping into the still steaming shower and turning it on. He washes quickly, wondering if Arthur will be asleep when he returns, and if that would be a good or a bad thing.

He hates this silence between them, but the specter of what Arthur might be doing with Gwaine keeps Merlin from attempting to make things right.

When he enters the bedroom, Arthur is in bed, his back to Merlin. Merlin finishes drying off and climbs onto the mattress, the distance between them a chasm he feels he can’t breach. He knows by the stiff way Arthur holds himself that he isn’t asleep.

Finally, just as the silence has stretched on so long Merlin has given up hope, Arthur speaks.

“Did it ever occur to you that I might have reasons to see Gwaine other than sex?”

Merlin turns these words over in his mind. He is surprised that it hasn’t. “No,” he admits.

Arthur flips over, and Merlin can feel his gaze upon him in the darkness. “I’m angry at you, Merlin,” Arthur says, but Merlin notes that he sounds more hurt than angry. His heart constricts in his chest, for he never wants to hurt Arthur. Merlin’s magic seems to have had its say and lies dormant. Merlin can’t get over the feeling it is judging him somehow.

“I know, Arthur.”

Arthur moves closer to him, a naked leg brushing his thigh, and Merlin sucks in a breath in spite of himself.

“I want you to trust me,” Arthur says quietly. “And I don’t know why you don’t. What reason do you have to assume the worst?” Arthur lays his head beside Merlin’s on the pillow, and Merlin can feel his breath against his face. Something settles within him at the intimacy restored between them.

Merlin thinks hard, wanting to explain. He isn’t sure of the answer himself. “I just… I think I’ve been wondering, since the first moment I met you, when you were going to come to your senses and leave me,” he finally admits, a bit in awe of the realization himself.

“ _Mer_ lin,” Arthur says softly, moving closer and pressing his lips to Merlin’s jaw until Merlin turns toward him and he takes his mouth in a kiss. “Have I never told you what you mean to me?” Arthur asks against Merlin’s lips. His tongue swipes at them before he continues. “You’re my everything. _The first, the last, my everything,”_ Arthur sings softly.

 _“And the answer to all my dreams_  
 _You're my sun, my moon, my guiding star_  
 _My kind of wonderful, that's what you are_ ”

Merlin can’t help laughing, because Arthur Pendragon crooning a seventies love ballad sounds truly awful.

Arthur smiles, kisses Merlin’s lips, confiding, “From the moment I saw you in my office, talking a mile a minute, you’ve been my everything.” Arthur’s lips moving over Merlin’s mouth do something crazy to Merlin's head, never mind what his words are doing to his heart. “You’re so…beautiful, and so real. I never thought you’d want me…a plastic person who can’t even voice his own emotions to the man he loves most in the world.”

Merlin responds to this by tut-tutting Arthur, “You’re not plastic,” before kissing him deeply.

When they pull apart, Arthur nuzzles Merlin’s jaw and says, “I wanted to kiss these pretty lips then,” Merlin snorts at the adjective, “and there hasn’t been a day since that I haven’t wanted to kiss them. Remember what I did earlier today?” Merlin does, and blushes. “The very night I met you, I dreamed I did that to you.  Spread you wide and tongued you… oh, Merlin,” Arthur sighs into his neck. “I watched your fingers that day…as you flipped through the papers in your file. I thought of what they might feel like in my hand. On my body. In my mouth.” Arthur leans up, and Merlin can barely make his face out in the darkness, barely make his words out over the hammering of his heart. “I listened to your lovely voice, watched your smile light up your face, and I wanted to know you. And then you refused to go out with me.”

Merlin smiles, and hears Arthur’s answering smile in his voice. “Which only made me want you more, of course.”

“Of course—so unused to not getting what you want.” Merlin had been both shocked and terrified when rich, prattish, Arthur Pendragon, the president of a large corporation that Merlin was doing PR for, had asked him to dinner. He’d stammered out an excuse, kicking himself later for being such a coward.

“Why did you think I pursued you, Merlin, if I didn’t want you?” Arthur asks against his skin.

Merlin remembers all the flowers that had been delivered to his apartment building and his work place. His co-workers and friends had watched, astonished, as arrangement after arrangement arrived over the next few days. Each had a card tucked into them, asking Merlin to join Arthur for dinner the following Saturday. The final one, three dozen long stemmed red roses delivered to his office on a Friday, gave the name of the restaurant, the time to meet him there, and said he’d be devastated if Merlin didn’t show up.

Merlin showed up.

How could he not?

“I may be shit at telling you what you mean to me, Merlin, but have I really failed to show you?” Arthur asks now, his hand moving over Merlin’s chest and down to rest on his flat stomach. “Has a day gone by, even when I’ve been out of town, when I haven’t phoned? Didn’t I beg you to move in with me after the first month and you turned me down flat?”

He had. Merlin had been afraid to move in with Arthur. Afraid Arthur would grow tired of him. Merlin squirms, uncomfortable in the face of his insecurities. Taking a mental step back and looking over the past year, Merlin realizes that Arthur has shown his love for him in a hundred ways, but Merlin has been too wrapped up in the thought that he’s not good enough for him to see it.

The night Arthur proposed, he did it in front of the entire group of their friends. He got down on one knee in their favorite pub and asked for Merlin’s hand in marriage while the whole place watched. They’d applauded when Merlin said yes and Arthur kissed him passionately.

Merlin knows that Arthur plans for them to go to Greece on their honeymoon because Merlin has always wanted to go there. And he knows that Arthur chose this house in the country because Merlin loved it from the first moment he laid eyes on it. He moves his head back on the pillow and looks at Arthur. “So you say you have a good reason to be talking to Gwaine without telling me. And that you love me. Only me.”

Arthur nods slowly, his eyes never leaving Merlin’s.

“Okay, then. I guess that’s good enough for me.”

Arthur leans forward and kisses him gently before pulling away.

"Is it, Merlin? Because if you really need me to tell you, I will," Arthur watches him carefully.

Merlin just smiles and pulls Arthur in for another kiss.

***

Although it’s been difficult, Arthur is glad that he’s kept the secret from Merlin. Merlin is true to his word and puts his jealousies behind him, although Arthur can see that it isn’t easy for him. Once or twice when Gwaine calls Arthur on the phone to ask a question, and Arthur has to leave the room to answer it, he feels Merlin’s eyes on him, but Merlin never mentions it.

Their wedding is small, but beautiful. They dress in grey morning suits and get married at sunrise outside a small church, and there’s a breakfast afterward. Their honeymoon in Greece is all sun and ruins and the beautiful sea, and it ends all too quickly.

The day that they return, Merlin’s studio is waiting for him, as Gwaine promised Arthur it would be. It’s everything Merlin’s ever wanted for his writing, and the look on his face when he sees it sitting behind the farmhouse warms Arthur’s heart and makes it all worth it.

“Oh my God, Arthur!” Merlin takes a couple of steps toward the building and then stops, looking back at him. “What is this?”

“It’s for you…a studio for your writing. You’ve always wanted a quiet place to work on your novel.” Arthur smiles at him. “Go on…take a look inside.”

Merlin does, and Arthur happily listens to his exclamations of joy. When Merlin comes outside again, he strides up to Arthur and gives him a heart-felt kiss that lasts for long, tingling moments. Just when Arthur thinks Merlin will pull away, he wraps his arms around Arthur more tightly and draws him in closer. Arthur’s hands rub the planes of Merlin’s back, his mouth responding enthusiastically. “You like it, hm?” Arthur says after a while.

“Are you kidding?” Merlin smiles his biggest smile. “I love it!” He tugs Arthur closer. “This was it, wasn’t it? What you cooked up with Gwaine? I’m an idiot.”

Arthur puts both hands on Merlin’s bum and tugs at him until their groins are pressed together. “Yes, you are, Merlin. An idiot to think I’d ever want Gwaine for anything but his building skills. An idiot to think I’d ever want anyone but you.” He presses his forehead to Merlin’s. “I want you to be happy.”

“I am happy, Arthur, so happy.” Merlin’s magic chooses that moment to awaken after weeks of ignoring Merlin and wrap itself around the two of them like a cocoon, chest to chest.

“ _The first, the last, my everything…”_ Arthur begins to sing, swaying Merlin in his arms. Merlin wrinkles his nose.

“You’re rubbish at singing, you know that, don’t you?”

 _“And the answer to all my dreams,”_ Arthur tries lowering his voice like Barry White, and Merlin tips his head back and laughs as Arthur leads him in a dance around the yard.

 _“You're my sun, my moon, my guiding star,”_ Arthur presses his lips to Merlin’s ear, breath tickling him as he sings.

_“My kind of wonderful, that's what you are_

_I know there's only, only one like you  
There's no way they could have made two”_

Arthur looks Merlin in the eyes, leaving no question of his feelings.

  
“ _You're all I'm living for_  
 _Your love I'll keep for evermore_  
 _You're the first, you’re the last, my everything_.”

_finis_


End file.
